


The Fight

by ixia_ixora, sherlock_is_actually_a_girls_name



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Don't Like Don't Read, Gen, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26822089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixia_ixora/pseuds/ixia_ixora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlock_is_actually_a_girls_name/pseuds/sherlock_is_actually_a_girls_name
Summary: Sherlock does not remember much..... all he remembers is the fight that broke them both.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 29
Kudos: 35
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ixia_ixora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixia_ixora/gifts), [AnAnYaH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAnYaH/gifts).



> This was written for the Whumptober, which is a list of October prompts for whump. Hope you enjoy!:))))

Sherlock groans and tries to open his eyes. The slight effort sets his forehead on fire and the thick coating of blood on the left side of his head refuses to let his left eye open fully.  
He squints at his surroundings and tries to deduce where he is. The place smells of rotten carcasses and sweat. There is a tiny light bulb at the centre of the ceiling but it is unlit. The only light in the room is from the small window to his left.  
He tries to remember how he got in a dingy cell in the middle of nowhere.  
Nothing. He remembers nothing after his fight with John. Misery and guilt wash over him at the thought of the fight. He clears his throat and focuses on the situation at hand.  
His hands are shackled to the ceiling. His legs are free. If only he could get out of here simply by kicking at the air.  
Suddenly, a scream cuts through the air.  
The voice is eerily familiar.  
It doesn't take long for him to understand who is in the adjacent room. John.  
Sherlock struggles against his chains as John's screams hit his eardrums.

He needs to think about something else. He enters his mind palace and opens the first door he can spot. And inside, are the memories he had been trying to avoid for so long.

\---------------

It had started out well though. A good case from Scotland Yard. A possible 5. Enough to get out of the flat after a dull week of wait.  
Pandemic days had made their impact on Baker Street and it's residents.  
John was very rarely home. Sherlock barely had any cases.  
Sherlock had spent the whole week doing experiments. Failed experiments because he couldn't stop thinking about John. Sherlock really wanted to see him.  
But John had been staying out for the most of the time, treating patients and helping at the clinic. Knowing that he had a child at home, he avoided any chance of physical contact with Rosie or Sherlock.  
Two weeks in, Sherlock had realised that John was staying at the doctor's housing while giving an excuse for overtime. When he had asked John about it, John had said that he expected Sherlock to understand his concern. Sherlock did and said nothing.  
Once in a blue moon, John could join Sherlock for cases. These occasions were rare and extremely valuable to Sherlock.

He was looking forward to seeing John at the crime scene even though the case was incredibly easy. 

Sherlock got into the cab. He had left Mrs Hudson to babysit Rosie, but he was worried about her. As arrogant as he was, he knew that spending time with a sociopath was not good for a child and her psychological health. The girl didn't even know what to call Sherlock. She kept on switching between Sherlock and Uncle Sherlock. But Sherlock remembered that initially Rosie had called Sherlock daddy. When Rose gained some years John had successfully made her understand that Sherlock was not her dad.  
This fact hurt Sherlock, but he took it in stride, since John was right. He was never Rosie's father to begin with. But he cared. He cared about her more than his dead bodies and more than his cases. 

Sherlock got out of the cab and ducked under the tape to enter the crime scene. John was already waiting for him. Sherlock drank in the sight of John, and for a moment his brain froze. It had been so long since they had seen each other.  
Slowly, the fog lifted and Sherlock started deducing John. It became evident that John hadn't been staying at the doctor's housing quarters. He had been with a woman last night. Sherlock felt anger and bile rise within his throat.  
He lashed out at John. He deduced with excruciating detail what had happened with the woman, the previous night. Sally Donavan snickered and Anderson joined in as they laughed at John and his miserable (or recently, not so miserable) sex life. John, being the soldier that he was, listened quietly as Sherlock dragged his reputation to hell. And left the room when he had finished. Sherlock remembered going home, with a heavy feeling in his chest. It was confusing. Alien. He had never known guilt like this before.  
He went back to Baker Street, having forgotten all about the crime scene. He quietly thanked Mrs Hudson and took Rosie with him upstairs. Just as he was murmuring soothing nonsense to the little girl to make her fall asleep, his phone pinged with a new text.

[04/10, 5:52 pm] JOHN WATSON : I asked Sarah to pick up Rose.

[04/10, 5:53 pm] JOHN WATSON: Thank you for your unconditional help in the last couple of months.

[04/10, 5:54 pm] JOHN WATSON: I know my family makes your life miserable, and that's why I had been thinking of getting out of your hair.

[04/10, 5:54 pm] JOHN WATSON: Today, you made it quite clear, that I wasn't wrong.

[04/10, 5:55 pm] JOHN WATSON: Sorry for expecting you to take care of my daughter in my time of need.

[04/10, 5:55 pm] JOHN WATSON: I should have known from the very beginning.

[04/10, 5:55 pm] YOU: Don't. Just don't throw that at me now. Not after I've done everything under the Sun for you and your family. Rosie is with me.- SH

[04/10, 5:56 pm] YOU: Go have sex with Sarah.-SH

[04/10, 5:56 pm] YOU: And don't worry about Rosie.-SH

[04/10, 5:56 pm] YOU: Not that you were worried in the first place.- SH

[04/10, 5:58 pm] JOHN WATSON: I am so grateful to you, Mr Holmes for doing everything for me from the beginning of time. But that's what we all must be, isn't it? Grateful to the great detective. Today you crossed a line, Mr Holmes and now there's no going back.

[04/10, 5:59 pm] YOU: Wow. So I'm Mr Holmes now, am I. -SH

[04/10, 5:58 pm] JOHN WATSON: Sarah will be there in 10.

[04/10, 6:00 pm] YOU: Rosie will not leave Baker Street unless you come and take her yourself. I won't hand her over to some idiotic woman you met in the hospital and shagged for a week. -SH

[04/10, 6:01 pm] JOHN WATSON: And who are you to decide anything about Rosie?

[04/10, 6:01 pm] JOHN WATSON: Rosie is my daughter.

[04/10, 6:03 pm] YOU: Unlike you, I'm someone who cares about her. You take her away yourself or Sarah will come to you crying, I promise. -SH

[04/10, 6:04 pm] JOHN WATSON: If you dare say anything to my girlfriend, you arsehole, that'll be it for us. You are going to quietly handover Rosie as soon as Sarah rings the bell.

[04/10, 6:08 pm] YOU: Us? Do you honestly think there was an "us"? Ever? You knew how much I cared; you took advantage of it. Mycroft, may be stupid, but he was right when he told me that caring about you or your family was never going to be an advantage. - SH.

[04/10, 6:09 pm] JOHN WATSON: Mycroft was right? And you know who else was right? Donovan!

[04/10, 6:09 pm] YOU: About what?-SH

[04/10, 6:10 pm] JOHN WATSON: About not trusting you. Because do you know who keeps someone else's daughter and doesn't let her go to her father? An untrustworthy psychopath.

Tears clouded Sherlock's vision. But he typed back nevertheless.

[04/10, 6:15 pm] YOU: I'm a high functioning sociopath and insulting me isn't going to earn you any brownie points. -SH

[04/10, 6:16 pm] YOU: I will let Sarah have Rosie if you agree to one condition. -SH

[04/10, 6:16 pm] JOHN WATSON: What condition.

[04/10, 6:18 pm] YOU: You have to pay attention to your daughter. Promise me that you will spend at least two hours from your busy day with her. She deserves a parent John. Not someone who tries to run from his duties. -SH

[04/10, 6:20 pm] YOU: If you agree to that, Sarah can take Rosie away. But remember that if you send Sarah, you are not welcome at Baker Street anymore. -SH

[04/10, 6:22 pm] JOHN WATSON: Aren't you the best father ever? Thank you for making me feel like shit again, twice in a single day... How do you pull that off every single fucking time? And bold of you to assume I want to come back to Baker Street. Sarah will be there in minutes.

[04/10, 6:25 pm] YOU: Of course. Enjoy being a rubbish father to Rosie.-SH

[04/10, 6:26 pm] JOHN WATSON: I will certainly do better than a freak.

* Read at 4.35 pm *

Sherlock hugged the sleeping Rosie to his chest one last time and let the tears fall. 

\---------------

The mind palace memories of Rosie and John wash over Sherlock in a crescendo of pain and misery. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to get John's voice out of his head. He knows that the drug they have given him is powerful. Powerful enough to cause hallucinations. He knows the symptoms of drug induced hallucinations even when he is having them himself.  
There is no John Watson here. There was no one screaming. And John is never going to come to save him. Or talk to him ever again.


	2. Pick who dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who haven't read the previous chapter, please check it out first. This chapter won't make sense without the previous one.  
> Note: since it's whumptober season, my other fic is on hold for now. Apologies.❤

It has been hours since Sherlock entered his mind palace to revisit his memories. When he comes back to himself, the sun has set, shrouding him in complete darkness. His head doesn't hurt as much though, and there are no screams to be heard; which means the drug is wearing off.  
Sherlock sighs and opens his eyes again. Tries not to think of John. Fails.  
Then, without any warning, the door to his cell opens softly and-  
"John."  
"Hey."  
Sherlock blinks several times in rapid succession to make sure it isn't the drug playing tricks on him. He can't ignore the small spark of joy at seeing John.  
"What are YOU doing here?"  
"Came to take you back home. And can you not shout?" John says, as he starts working at the shackles, careful of the raw, bleeding skin around Sherlock's wrists. "How in the fuck did you manage to get here?" John asks.  
"That's none of your business." Sherlock replies curtly, trying desperately to cover up the fact that he does not remember anything after their fight.  
John huffs, "You're in quite a strop."  
"Being locked up in a room while being extremely bored does that to you, yes."  
"Okay, well, now that I'm here, you don't need to be worried about being bored. Let's go." He undoes Sherlock's shackles and they step out of the small cell. The light bulb outside blinds him for a second and he stands there, eyes closed against it.  
John slips his hand into Sherlock's. "We need to go," he murmurs.  
Sherlock nods slowly and turns away from the light. They start running but Sherlock doesn't let go of John's hand. His head is pounding with each step he takes, but he doesn't mention it.  
Somehow, John seems to know where they are going.  
They're two meters away from freedom when John stops. Sherlock looks back at him in confusion and freezes in place. Five armed and masked men stand behind John, each of their guns trained on either Sherlock or John.  
The shortest one of them rips apart his mask, "Ugh. Did you actually think this was going to be so easy, Mr Holmes?" He waves his hand at the others, his expression disgusted. "Take them to the office, I'll be there in five."  
Sherlock glances at John. His face is calm, collected. John isn't afraid. But Sherlock is. It's slowly coming back to him now. He knows who these men are. What they're capable of. He has seen the bodies they have left behind all over London. He doesn’t want them anywhere near John.  
They are hauled down the corridor to another part of the building. The office they are pushed into is quite large and fashionably furnished. They're tied to two arm chairs. The wait is short; neither of them speak.  
The short man comes in, dressed now in an impeccable suit. "Let's get straight to the point, Mr Holmes. You have proven to be quite a nuisance in the past, which is why I'm going to kill you. Now I'm quite a generous man, so I'll let you choose which one of you dies. You have two minutes. Choose quickly or I will shoot you both."  
John's whole body tenses up. He glances at Sherlock nervously and for the first time, Sherlock catches a glimpse of the fear behind his soldier's mask. Sherlock does not meet his eyes. They both know who he is going to choose. Because no matter how many times he breaks him, there is no Sherlock Holmes without his John.  
"Shoot me." Sherlock says simply.  
Before John can object, the gun is cocked and pointed at Sherlock's heart.


	3. Manhandled and forced to their knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to ixia_ixora for helping me thru this chapter! ❤Hope y'all like it!

"NO." John yells, before he can realize what he is saying. The entire room turns to him. Nobody had expected him to speak. He needs to think. And think fast in order to buy them some time. He has to distract them for just a few minutes more. "If….if you dare to lay a finger on him, Mycroft Holmes will end you. And I will personally hunt you down to the ends of the earth. EACH AND EVERY FUCKING ONE OF YOU."

"He's stronger than he looks, you know. I know he looks tiny, but he is a soldier," Sherlock says. 

John shoots a glare his way. 

Not helping.

The short man snorts, looking bored. "Shut him up." He orders.  
One of the bulkier men frees John from the chair he's tied to and ties his hands behind his back instead. He pulls John by the hair and forces him to his knees. The shorter man still has the gun pointed at Sherlock, so John doesn't raise a finger to defend himself. He swallows down the panic that rises in his throat. 

The man in front of John starts undoing his zipper, but the shorter man interrupts, "Billy. I told you to shut him up. Not to let him give you a blowjob. I know he's hot and all, but we're gonna have time to use him later on, okay? After we get rid of this Holmes nuisance. Now for godssakes, push a fucking gag down his throat and get the job done."

Billy looks disappointed at that, but obeys anyway. "Yes, Mr Forster." He says, in a thick Russian accent.  
He fishes out a large napkin and blocks John's nose until John is forced to open his mouth for air. He stuffs the napkin in his mouth and pats his cheek, "Good boy," he whispers and grins. "While Mr Forster gets rid of your boyfriend here, you'll need some practice opening your mouth wide, right? We wouldn't want to make you suck dick without prepping you first." He says under his breath. 

Forster is talking to Sherlock in a low voice and Sherlock grows paler by the second. John can't hear him over Billy's stupid rasp. He throws him an annoyed glance and tries to say, "Shut the fuck up you stupid pumpkin" But it comes out as a garbled series of sounds.  
Billy; stupid tho he is, gets the jist of the look he just got from John. Unfortunately, he knows it's an insult and backhands John.  
John's right cheek stings from the impact.  
Forster has stopped talking. John thinks it's his imagination but Sherlock looks green in the face. "You have made your choice, Mr Holmes." Forster smiles blandly.  
He takes a step back and aims once again.  
The men hold John down. He tries to scream. Nothing comes out. 

Several things happen at once in the next few seconds.  
Mr Forster falls to the ground, his brains blown out. John has a second to wonder where the bullet came from before he hears Sherlock's scream of pain. John tries to rip himself free from the men's hands but their iron grip is too strong for him. He hears himself scream Sherlock's name into the gag over and over as tears threaten to choke him.  
He cannot see Sherlock because two men are blocking his view of him, and he starts kicking at them frantically.  
The men holding him, start to drop dead one by one, all of them shot through the head. When there are two of them left, the sniper stops shooting, probably reloading, but John doesn't have time to wait for them to reload. He elbows one of them in the ribs and kicks the other mercilessly in the groin.

Now that he is free, John wastes no time in spitting out the gag and rushes over to Sherlock's chair. 

The tremor in his hand starts to act up and he feels the muscles in his leg and shoulder tense with the memory of war.  
He steels himself and examines the bullet wound himself even though the paramedics have arrived and are asking him to move out of the way; he needs to make sure Sherlock is okay.  
The wide gaping hole in Sherlock's side is just as horrible as John remembers seeing in Afghanistan. He pushes his palm against the wound and lifts Sherlock onto the stretcher they have brought.

Sherlock is carried to the chopper and John follows the medics. He settles down beside Sherlock. One of the medics asks him to move out of the way again, and this time, he obeys. Just as John is about to move his away, Sherlock grabs John's hand.  
His voice is raspy as he says, "John. John, I'm sorry. I d-didn't know they wanted…..they wanted to t-touch you after they had killed me. I would never have s-said that I wanted to die if I had known. I am, s-so sorry, John."

John's heart breaks a little as he looks at Sherlock, and even as his side bleeds profusely, the only thing Sherlock is worried about even after being shot and drugged and concussed….. is John. 

He regrets the fight they had and every goddamn text he sent. But he knows that he has already apologized for it. He had apologized to Sherlock the morning he was kidnapped.  
Sherlock hates repetition. So he just squeezes Sherlock's hand and nods slowly. "It's alright," he whispers.  
Sherlock's eyes close as the anesthesia is administered.

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments make my day! And I love to revisit comments when I'm feeling down. Please consider leaving me a scream or a keyboard smash:)))))


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